Of Love and Honor
by StarscreamRox's
Summary: For many he risked his life. But for one he lived.  Col. Vanek POV.
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! Here's a little appetizer I promised while yall wait on me to continue FEAR: The Awakening. This is kind of an experiment. I really loved the character Col. Vanek. I was sad when they told us so little about him. So, I decided to make a little fic making up some history for this character that practically doesn't have any lol. I will continue The Awakening, don't worry, but I'm waiting for FEAR 3 to come out before I do. Sorry to keep yall you to all who have continued to follow my fics! Much love to all of you for your favs, alerts, and reviews! I hope you enjoy this! Please read, review, but most importantly, enjoy! :3

AN: I decided to say that they didn't hire Vanek to head security until after the first synchronicity event. I couldn't figure out when they were claiming he joined ATC but this seemed to make the most sense to me. So that's what I'm going with. This won't play a factor till chapter 2 but I'd thought I'd give you all a heads up. Also, this has been heavily edited though I may have missed a few spots where I decided to be more vague with the passage of time. Sorry for any confusion that may cause. ^^;

FEAR and it's characters don't belong to me. Please don't sue. Also, this is just a fan fic, it does not reflect my personal views on certain matters.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

Vanek had always been a calculating man, but this…This he had not anticipated. Every moment of his life had been meticulously planned out ever since he was old enough to think for himself. That being the case, why was he here, now, like this? Pacing anxiously in a waiting room with a wedding band around his finger only a few months old?

_She hadn't known_.

How could she not? How was that even possible?

Vanek laughed bitterly to himself. Perhaps if he had been more careful it wouldn't have mattered. But even at his age, it seemed, he was still capable of making stupid, careless mistakes. He had known her, once. They had been close once. But that had been ages ago—a lifetime ago—before the military, before the Marines. Nostalgia had gotten the best of them that night. He had been lonely. So had she. And he was drunk. And she was oh so beautiful. No…that had not been a good combination. It led to things, things unplanned…It led to this…

He'd been kicking himself ever since they arrived—no—ever since she had told him, those few months ago. He had married her on the spot, promised to provide, to care, to protect. She accepted out of fear, knowing what lay ahead. For too long she hadn't known, hadn't done the necessary things, hadn't stopped the unnecessary. When he didn't hear from her for some time he had just assumed, assumed everything was alright, that the unthinkable hadn't happened, that they had dodged a bullet. But he was wrong, naïve in thinking that such things were fool proof. They had both been naïve, and perhaps he didn't know her past as well as he had thought. And now the child would pay for it, for their foolishness.

…_Premature_...

_What have we done?_

Vanek buried his face in his hands. This wasn't supposed to be happening. But here he was, waiting, waiting to be allowed to see her…to see them…

He had jumped when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. It was the doctor, one of them—they all looked the same at this point. It was time, he had said. He was allowed to see them now. Vanek followed him, more terrified then he had ever been in his life. He had fought wars, Vanek. The doctor assured him this would be no different, a war in and of itself, one that would require him to fight, all of them, to fight.

But it wasn't one you could fight with a gun, Vanek had told him, with guts and wits alone, and that's all he knew how to do.

"Guts and wit you'll need tenfold," the doctor told him. "She'll need them too, for the fight…You'll have to give them to her."

Vanek had looked at him quizzically, not comprehending.

"My wife?"

The doctor shook his head as he held open the swinging doors for Vanek, the ones that led him to the room where his child now laid, not resting, not resting.

The hospital had seemed so quiet 'till that moment, when the nurses parted to show him his child, laying in an incubator connected to more tubes then he would ever want to count, and suddenly the swinging doors suddenly became deafening as they swooshed back and forth.

"Your daughter."

"What?"

"Your. Daughter."

"My…daughter?" the words felt alien to him as they all but fell from his lips. Vanek, one of four sons, Vanek, one of many Marines, Vanek, the man only close to one woman not fifty feet down the hall, was father to a tiny, tiny baby girl.

He walked over to the incubator, trying to get a closer look. The nurses and doctors were still working furiously, doing for her what her body couldn't yet. The doctor had told him what all had been wrong with her, what all had happened because she had not received the proper care early on, because she had been exposed to things she shouldn't.

"What we did to her…"

"—that's not what I—"

"I know…but it's true all the same…"

"This…happens…even when everything is done right. It still happens. It's no one's fault…It just…is…"

But Vanek hadn't been listening. He didn't want to believe him. He couldn't let himself. Maybe they weren't to blame, maybe the doctor was right. Vanek was sure that he was, but that wouldn't stop him from blaming himself for this, all of this. He had to think that if he had been more careful he could have kept this from happening, otherwise he was—in his eyes—more useless then he would ever care to admit.

"She's a fighter," the doctor had said.

Vanek turned to look at him, studying him, looking for the lie he had undoubtedly learned to comfort patients in situations like these, the hopeless looking ones. He was surprised when he didn't see one.

"She's sick…"

"Very…" the doctor said flatly.

Vanek nodded, understanding.

"But she still has a chance…"

Vanek looked to him again.

"Look at her," the doctor said, motioning to his daughter.

He did. She was thrashing, trying to at least, grabbing at the tubes her face contorted, angry looking, determined looking. A knot began to form in his throat and in his chest as shock gave way to grief.

"I don't think she likes being told she can't do something," the doctor said over Vanek's shoulder.

Vanek had laughed, bitterly but still. It sounded like something he had heard before, like something he would do.

"What are her odds?"

The doctor shifted, clearing his throat. Vanek watched him closely now, anticipating. "There's a very good chance that with intensive care she can still make it but…your daughter has…_other _complications…"

"Meaning?"

"The smoking, the drinking, the other…teratogens…have caused…problems…How severe is not completely certain at this point…" he said grimly. "Have you spoken to—?"

"—yes…"

"And she understands—?"

"Yes, she quit the moment she found out…"

"Good, good…"

A dead hush fell between the two men, uncertainty not being an easy subject to discuss, especially when a life was involved. The doctor read off a list of complications, potential and otherwise. Vanek couldn't comprehend them all, this not being his area of expertise. The doctor assured him, however, that they would do all they could, that his daughter still had good odds. Vanek believed him, choose to, had to, for her. In that moment, staring down at her frail and tiny body, he vowed that he'd see to it, make damn sure she got everything she ever needed. She would never go without. Not while he still breathed.

Vanek turned to the doctor, thanking him for his help, both current and future. The doctor was smiling at him, a strange expression on his face. Vanek cocked his head slightly, an unspoken query.

"I know that look," he said, still smiling. "You'll be fine. All of you. I can feel it."

With that, he walked away, returning to his duties, having spared all the time he could afford.

Vanek was escorted out of the room, told to check on his wife. He did, not knowing what else to do.

When he arrived in her room she was sobbing, shaking. He sat on the edge of her bed, tried to hold her, to comfort her, but she pushed him away, wanting none of it. "I can't", she kept saying over and over, like a twisted, broken mantra. And Vanek hadn't known what to say. He tried to reassure her, telling her all the doctor had said, about their daughter's odds—good odds, he had said. But she was hysterical, beyond hysterical.

She screamed at him to get out, throwing the ring he had given her at him, cursing him. The nurses rushed to her side, pushing him out, assuring him that she was just in shock and that she would come around once she had rested and calmed down.

But she never did. Months passed and she never did, even as their daughter made leaps and bounds, taking the hospital by storm, Vanek always at her side. The doctor, the one from the waiting room, Meisner, Lance Meisner, said he had never seen anything like it—said that he had been right more so then he had even realized.

Yes, Vanek's daughter was a fighter. And a damn good one at that.

They stood there one day, Vanek and Meisner, watching her as she slept peacefully for once, on her own, unaided.

Meisner scratched his head, laughing slightly. Vanek turned to him, looking at him quizzically. "It's like she was never sick," he said, smiling. "It's like someone just said 'Get better' and she did. It's a miracle Colonel Vanek, nothing short of a God given miracle."

Vanek smiled, turning back to watch his daughter, feeling as though he could breath too, easily, for the first time in ages.

"What have you decided to name her? You and your wife?" he asked.

Vanek frowned, the mentioning of his wife no longer a welcomed topic. Perhaps he should have anticipated this, the marriage having been a thing more out of duty and honor then love—romantic or otherwise— but since when did romantic love always make a lasting bond? He had meant what he had said that day. Perhaps she had not.

Almost as if he could read Vanek's mind, Meisner cleared his throat, the rumbling hiding an unspoken "I see".

Moments later the doctor had left, having been needed elsewhere. Vanek hadn't cared though; he preferred to sit alone with her, his daughter, having done so through those hellish nights when every moment was an uncertain thing. He had been there, not leaving, through nearly the entire thing, the hospital staff only occasionally being able to force him out to make him sleep. But he'd be back the next day, hours later, coffee in hand with a look that dared them to move him. They never did, having been smart enough not to try.

He sat there, watching her sleep, when suddenly she opened her eyes, bright blue orbs staring up at him, and she smiled. She knew.

Vanek smiled, shaking his head watching her as she smiled, reflexively or not he didn't know. But she seemed happy now, healthy, and that's all that mattered to him anymore. He hadn't pictured himself a family man, his own been a far cry from perfect and loving, but the little tyke had won him over with her tenacity. And maybe there was some old truth still left to the saying, "It's different when you're there", at least for him if not his "wife".

As he watched her take in the sights and sounds of the hospital, whatever it was she could actually see and hear, he had remembered something, a time back in his earlier years of military life, of the Marines. He remembered a civilian in some jungle that's name he couldn't recall anymore. She had helped the mismatched batch of men. Marine or not they had still been green, and her help had made their lives easier, saved one or two of them no doubt.

Jack they had called her, though why he didn't know, but she had always had their backs, wanting peace for her village, believing them capable of bringing that peace. One of the men had joked, the jungle cowered at the name of Jack, and perhaps it had. Vanek remembered there wasn't a damn thing she couldn't do, couldn't get out of or around, couldn't find or destroy, recover or see. She was invisible in that damn jungle, unstoppable. He had been damn glad she had been on their side, damn glad.

Looking down at his daughter he laughed, she reminding him so much of that little civilian girl, Jack. And then it dawned on him—Jackie. "What do you think?" he had asked her. "Eh? Jackie?" And she had smiled, laughed even, and then he had too. And so it read on her certificate, Jackie J Vanek, weeks later, when they left the hospital, just the two of them, his "wife" having run off somewhere, not wanting anything to do with a child that could potentially be sick for a life time. Richard Vanek had preferred it be just the two of them though and he believed, from the smile on her face, that his daughter, Jackie, agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is at last complete! Many thanks to Tobias Corvinus, ANON THE GREAT, and Laurie Jupiter for their wonderful reviews! Much love! Reviews make my world go round and help keep the creative juices flowing!

This one gives a little more insight into the mind of Jackie J Vanek, which I hope you enjoy! As stated previously, this will be rather short fic, but hopefully still a very enjoyable one! I hope to have more for you soon. As always please read, review, but most of all, enjoy!

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Time rushed by after that day. Jackie grew stronger, healthier, with each passing moment. The wives on the military base, of the other Marines, had laughed when they had seen them. Hard ass Vanek, father to a baby girl—irony at its finest they had said. The women of the Marine Corp had pitied poor Jackie though. "That girl doesn't stand a chance at civilian life," they laughed. "She'll be a full fledged Marine by the time she's four."

It wasn't long after bringing Jackie home that Vanek found out how little he knew about raising kids—much less a baby girl— but he made a quick study. He learned that the women of the Marine Corp were a God sent, helping him without mocking him when he had no earthly idea what he was doing; that his "Colonel look" was good for a hell of a lot more then stifling a laugh when some idiot felt the urge; that his daughter would forever be able to crawl faster than he could ever dream of running; that nothing is truly "child proof"; and that if you blink, children spontaneously grew up.

One day she was three months old, just barely out of the hospital. Then he blinked and suddenly she was nearly five and about to start school. So, he learned to stop blinking. But he had also learned that it was damn impossible to be a single parent with no family connections and a Colonel in the US Marines.

It was on the day of that realization, nearing his daughter's fifth birthday, that he received a certain phone call from a certain secretary of a certain chairman of board of directors of Armacham Technology Corporation concerning a certain "job opportunity". He didn't like all the "hush hush" surrounding the details. And he didn't like the feeling that he was having his chain jerked, but the chairman had gotten on the line. He assured him that he would make it worth his while and that _if_ Colonel Vanek accepted his daughter could go to Harvard without so much as having to take out a student loan. Vanek had saved up a considerable sum of money during his service and, all though his daughter seemed to no longer possess any medical problems, she had racked up a considerable amount of medical bills early on.

In spite of this, however, Vanek was still uncertain, the position sounding too good to be true.

"Just come on down to my office tomorrow morning," the chairman, Salyers, had said. "We'll discuss the details then. And I promise you, Colonel Vanek, I won't waste a man of your talents time."

So there he was, sitting in the lobby, early as always, waiting for the meeting time to arrive. Next to him sat his wide-eyed and ever curious baby girl, Jackie. The sitters he had come to trust over the years were unable to watch her on such short notice. Various other preoccupied teens had offered their aid in watching his pride and joy, but he had refused their help. Jackie ran the risk of having enough long term health problems as it was, he didn't need some absent minded teenager's failure to properly observe her adding to them.

At present, little Jackie seemed to be admiring the marble flooring, or perhaps it was her reflection _in_ the marble flooring, of which, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that watching her sit there and swing her short little legs back and forth as she quietly sat next to him in the lobby made his heart swell. Times like this made him wonder what he ever did to deserve such a loving and well-behaved child. He was ever grateful for his little shadow.

Jackie grinned suddenly and his curiosity peaked. What was it she was grinning at, he had wondered. Then suddenly she pointed over to a spot on the floor, as if having read his mind. His eyes followed her tiny little finger over across the marble floor to that of his own reflection.

She had seen him watching her in the glossy marble tiling.

His smile widened with pride. Such an observant little thing she was. The doctors worried by how quiet she tended to be, fearing her silence might be something screaming back at them, but times like this assured Vanek that his little joy was alright. She was merely watching, waiting, speaking when she felt the need. She let her actions do the rest.

Not unlike her father.

Jackie's head shot up suddenly, making Vanek start.

"Colonel Vanek?"

One of the director's secretaries had approached. "Mr. Salyers will see you now," she said with a polite smile.

Vanek rose from his seat, and little Jackie hopped up after him. He caught the secretary stealing a worried glance at her, undoubtedly having had trouble with ill-behaved children in the past.

"She'll be fine," he said, no expression on his face.

The secretary had looked up at him, nervously, but did her best to smile assuredly. "I'm sure she will," she said politely as she motioned them to the elevators. "The director's office is on the top floor. There's a small waiting room outside. Your daughter can wait there, if you would like. One of our secretaries can watch her while you speak with the director."

Vanek nodded politely to the secretary but said nothing more. He took little Jackie by the hand and made his way to the elevator.

He pressed the button to call the elevator down and waited patiently as the great mechanical box undoubtedly embarked on an epic journey, the building being as large and unnecessary as it was. It was there, as he waited, in the gold metal finish of the large elevator doors, that he realized his daughter was acting strangely. She looked at the doors, then back at him, then back to the doors and back at him. After a moment of this, she stopped and tugged his hand. At this, he turned to face her.

Curious green eyes stared up at him.

It was then he remembered. "She's never seen an elevator before, has she?" he thought. "Not one like this at least."

He smiled at the curious look she gave him, at her tugging on his hand again, demanding her inquire be answered. He admired her inquisitive nature, even endeared her way of asking, but the doctors had frowned strongly upon it.

"You're encouraging her silence," they had scolded him. "We know you know what she wants when she does these things, but you need to make her ask, she needs to speak. This way isn't good for her."

Again , she tugged at his hand.

He shook his head. "Uh-uh, kiddo, you know the drill," he said firmly but lovingly.

He had to repress a laugh when she huffed at him. Knowing that she knew that he knew damn well what she wanted. She stubbornly turned to face the elevator doors, her expression not that different from any pouting child.

She would once again attempt to win the battle of wills.

Vanek smiled a little in spite of himself, and turned to face the doors as well. "Alright than," he said, knowing that every passing second her curiosity would erode her stubbornness.

He stifled his laugh as he watched her face contort, as she tried to keep from blurting out her question. She couldn't stand it, not knowing, absolutely could not stand it.

She wouldn't last long.

Sure enough, as the elevator finally made its way to the bottom floor and its giant golden doors slide open with great ease, she blurted out as quickly as she could , "_Whatisit_?!"

"It's an elevator," he said warmly, chuckling at the little sigh she made, relieved that she knew at last what must have looked to her to be an odd thing indeed.

"Want to push the button to make it go?" he asked.

He grinned from ear to ear as her face lit up and she nodded, ever enthusiastically, delighted at the thought of controlling what she would later refer to as the 'giant floating box'. He helped little Jackie inside and lifted her up so that she could reach the button that would lead to the chairman's office.

"That one?" she asked as she pointed to the button that, sure enough, would lead them straight there.

"She hears everything," he thought proudly, and worriedly, as he nodded his head in response. "Yup, that one. Not too hard now, don't hurt your finger."

"I won't," she assured him as she dramatically reached out to press the button, causing her father to laugh once again.

"Ata-girl," he said with a smile, carefully setting her down next to him, her giggling all the while.

The ride to the top floor had been an enjoyable one, his daughter all a buzz with questions about the giant floating box. He did his best to answer her questions, realizing once again how little people know about the machines they use every day. Upon reaching the top floor, she had finally called his bluff.

"You don't know much about it, do you?" she had asked.

"You're five years old, you shouldn't even be able to phrase a question in such a way," he countered, and at that, she had giggled. "Clearly, I read to you too much," he teasingly added.

He laughed at her expression as she baulked at the very idea. "Settle down now, settle down," he said to her with a smile. "I have to go and talk to a very important man for a little while. I need you to wait quietly in here for me while I do, alright?"

Jackie looked from him, to the secretary that had approached them with a warm greeting, and then back to him. "Do I have to?" she asked so, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

Almost.

He sighed. "Afraid you do, kiddo," he said as he patted her on the head. "It shouldn't take too long," he said, trying to reassure her.

She frowned suddenly, "You only say that when it does."

He sighed again. "You got me," he confessed. "It may very well take a long time." 'Or no time at all,' he thought, 'depending on what he has to say.' "But I really need you to wait here for me, quietly, and behave for this nice young woman, alright? Can you do that for me?"

She studied him for a moment, seemingly gauging his earnestness. After a moment, she sighed and nodded her head.

"That's my girl," he said with a smile. He pointed to a nearby chair he instructed her to sit down quietly and wait for his return, all the while the secretary reassured him that she would keep a close eye on little Jackie.

With that, and another quick glance to check on his beloved daughter, Vanek stepped into the chairman's office. He was greeted warmly by a man in a very expensive suit that stood up from a very expensive desk in what was no doubt the most expensive office in the entire overly expensive building. Vanek used his "Colonel look" to hide his distaste for the over extravagance.

As anticipated, chairman Salyers immediately took over the conversation, first talking about the great and wonderful company and how wonderful their work was for humanity. Then he proceeded to try to talk about how talented Vanek was at his job and how they needed men like him to keep the company running, etcetera, etcetera.

Vanek was annoyed at the blatant ploy, mentally noting that if the chairman thought that he was truly so wonderful at his job, he wouldn't be trying such offhanded tactics on him. The man was transparent, whether he knew it or not, and was currently insulting Vanek's intelligence.

Vanek had done his homework before reporting for this interview. Although he was only mostly familiar with the public face of ATC, he was aware of their _other _dealings. He knew they dealt heavily with tech that was intended for military purposes. He also knew what kind of work and threats building of such tech entailed.

After minimal questioning, it was becoming apparent that something had happened at one of their facilities that had spooked the department of defense, which is likely how his name came up. Some threat, external or otherwise, popped up on someone's radar and investors were likely scrambling to get their checks back, causing a large portion of the company to chase its own tail.

After taking all of the coded, quiet talk he could stand, Vanek decided to interrupt the chairman and cut this meeting remarkably short.

"Mr. Chairman, let's get down to the point here," Vanek interrupted suddenly. "I'm sure you're a very important man and I have other things to do than sit here and listen to you ramble on for over an hour and say next to nothing."

Vanek repressed a smirk when the chairman went slack jawed.

"If this isn't a safe place to talk openly then I suggest we get to one," he added with a stern look.

The chairman cleared his throat awkwardly and reached under his desk. The motion was followed by a barely audible click, after which the chairman motioned for Vanek to continue speaking.

"Your precious company is one that builds tech for military applications, and I'm one of the few people that knows _exactly_ what that means, along with all the wonderful, unreported fuckery that goes with it, and I don't say that lightly," Vanek said bluntly. "You called me offering a job as head of your security division, a private security division, might I add. Now I know my name didn't just pop up in the wanted ads so let's get down to business, shall we? It's apparent that something's happened. Being that one of your main investors is the D.O.D., I'm sure there are some very powerful people that are very...displeased."

The chairman leaned back in his seat quietly, trying to look calm and collected, but Vanek could tell he was squirming on the inside.

"Now you need someone to clean house, to reassure your _investors_ that you have everything under control," Vanek continued, "and why else would you call me? Because talented as I may be, I have a very select skill set."

The chairman shifted slightly in his seat. "They were right to recommend you," he said with sly smile. "Looks like I won't have to brief you after all."

Vanek smirked. "I'm sure your investors were just drooling over my dossier. Now let's cut to the chase."

The chairman raised a brow, "Yes?"

"Money," Vanek said flatly. "What you're offering for what you want me to do isn't nearly enough. Given what I'm good at, I'm interested, but as I'm sure you and your associates are aware, I have a kid in this equation. I'm not about to go run off and do something stupid like clean up your horse shit for free."

The chairman paused for a minute, eyeing Vanek carefully, studying him.

Vanek didn't so much as blink.

After another moment of silence, the chairman smiled. "Done."

"Might want to belay that response till you hear the rest of it, Mr. Chairman," Vanek added. "I want intel, all you have on all your projects. If I'm going to be protecting your investments, I need to know what they are, where they are, and what I need to be worried about. I've heard rumors on some of the shit you lot do down where the ethics committee can't so much as spit on you. If you want me to keep your shit wrapped up tighter than a bride on her wedding night, I need to know the details."

The chairman thought on this for a moment before he spoke again. "That will be more..._difficult_...to arrange," he said carefully. "Possible, but difficult...I'm sure you're aware of the repercussions of _misplacing_ such information?"

Vanek snorted. "Respectfully, Mr. Salyers, you don't get to be where I am by runnin your damn mouth."

The chairman smirked, "No, no I suppose not..." The chairman paused momentarily. "Anything else?"

"Yes."

The chairman furrowed his brow.

"I want the power to select my own team," Vanek said flatly. "Considering the potential shit storms that could arise while working for your company, I want to know who I have running alongside me to clean it up before it hits the fan."

"Reasonable."

"I thought so too."

Another pause.

Vanek wasn't budging. This job had potential, but he was flat out lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge how quick it could go wrong. If he was going to do this, it was going to be done his way.

The chairman sighed. "You certainly drive a hard bargain, Colonel Vanek."

"I know what it takes to get the job done, sir," Vanek said sternly. "If you want to hire me for what I can do, then you and your company are going to have to let me do it. Otherwise, we're all wasting our time."

The chairman rubbed his chin, likely mulling over all that had been said. Vanek could tell he was running potential negotiation pitches through his head. He only hoped the chairman realized that he wasn't going to buy any of them.

At last the chairman sighed, stood up, and reached over his desk, extending his hand.

"You have a deal, Colonel Vanek," he said with confident smile.

Vanek rose from his seat and shook the man's hand. "Glad to hear it, Mr. Salyers," he said with a nod. "When can I start?"

"Two weeks," the chairman replied. "I hope that will give you enough time to get your affairs in order?"

Vanek smiled, "Of course."

After a few more obligatory words were exchanged, Vanek left the chairman's office with a triumphant gleam in his eye. He took his precious daughter by the hand, who had waited so patiently for him to finish with his interview, and together they made their way out of the elaborate building and back towards their quietly little house just outside the military base.

In two weeks time he would send his precious little angle off to her very first day of school, all the while trying his damnedest not to cry. Then, he would walk into the last company he would ever work for, and descend its floors to the closest thing resembling hell he'd ever seen.


End file.
